Ours
by Ruibin Rua
Summary: He's her Mystery Boy, but could he ever be more than that? One-shot.


**This was my entry for the recent _Fic This Gif _contest. I didn't place anywhere, but I was up against some extremely talented writers. I'd highly recommend reading some of the entries. You'll find FicThisGifAnonContest in my list of Favourite Authors.**

**I'd like to thank my beta, MeilleurCafe (Serendipitous), for her unfailing help and guidance. She corrects my silly mistakes, but most importantly of all, she encourages me to keep on trying. If you're looking for a wonderful story, you should check out her current WIP, **_**Boxing Out** _**- you'll find it in my favourites.**

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The first time I noticed my Mystery Boy, it was just the flash of green Converse splashing through the puddles that caught my eye. On that first morning, I had almost retreated back to the comfort of my matchbox-sized flat when I opened the door to a face-full of rain, but research waits for no woman. Every day that week, he passed me by; easy, loping, boyish grace in green runners. I was bound for a day of research in the library, he for early morning labs. He bobbed to an invisible tune, eyes flicking from side to side, taking in the world around him with a bright gaze.

The first morning he noticed me, I was wearing red. It was just a quick turn of his head in my direction and a slight upturn of his lips, but I celebrated it as a victory. I wore that red coat every day after that. We were like two brightly coloured puzzle pieces amidst the grey-brown concrete of the surrounding buildings. The pang in my heart grew with each encounter, the desire for him to match his edges to mine and find that we were a perfect fit. How could this boy with the shock of copper-coloured hair falling into his eyes have captured me so easily?

During the second week, we progressed to exchanging nods and smiles. I had finished the research for my paper and in truth, preferred to work at home, yet each day saw me donning my red coat at the same time and clutching my brown, leather satchel in anticipation. As the Stalker Handbook advised, I had timed my morning route perfectly, so that I was always passing the science building as my Mystery Boy was making his way there. At the end of that week, he raised his coffee mug in greeting and I stopped in delighted surprise. The most delicious chuckle drifted back to me on the morning breeze and I floated to the library, where I spent the first hour idling among the stacks, replaying that moment.

The third week I spent fighting off a bout of the flu in bed. My flatmate, Alice, brought me soup and ice-cream, the only foods I could bear to swallow. She dbarred the door manfully when I tried to crawl to class and sent me back to shiver beneath the covers. She listened patiently as I expounded on the many virtues, real and imagined, of my Mystery Boy and indulged my hunger for happily-ever-after romantic movies. When I dreamed, I dreamed of him, of his smile and the sparkle in his eyes, of his tousled hair the colour of a new penny. I wondered if he missed me, if he looked forward to our early morning rendezvous as much as I did, or if I was just another morning ritual, the blushing girl who stared at him with hopeful eyes.

The Monday after my week of being afflicted with the plague saw me waking before my alarm, unable to tame my stomach enough for even a bite of cereal. I thought of him while I pinned back my hair with a bright green clip, the same colour as his well-worn shoes. The sun kissed the tip of my nose as I left my apartment and breathed in the crisp air. Autumn leaves crunched underfoot on the quiet tree-lined avenue where I lived. I pushed open the rusting pedestrian gate leading onto the college grounds, smiling giddily at the familiar squeak and groan of tired metal. I slowed my steps as I passed the science building, our usual meeting spot.

He came towards me, his pace slightly slower than usual and his gaze directed at the slip of a girl clinging to his arm. I averted my eyes as he threw back his head in laughter and passed me by, oblivious. She embraced him at the bottom of the steps and I turned away in embarrassment as he caught my eye over her shoulder, just in time to see me trip on an uneven patch of ground and fall heavily.

I tried not to sob as my bag burst open, spilling its contents across the damp path, and scrambled to gather everything quickly. Moments later, he was crouching down in front of me, helping me to my feet while his companion chased some of my papers across the concourse.

"Are you okay? You took quite a spill there."

My blush bordered on painful. How often I had longed for him to notice me, but not like this, not like this. His grasp on my arm was gentle but secure, and I focused on the length of his fingers through blurry vision.

"Hey! You're crying! Are you hurt? Let me help you."

He turned me to face him, bending his knees slightly so that he could see my face. A cut on my knee emitted a stinging pain, but nothing could eclipse my mortification and disappointment in that moment.

"Thank you. I'm fine. Really. I just need to get home now. Thank you for helping me."

I directed this at both of them while extricating myself from his hold and stuffing the papers the girl held out to me into my bag. I chanced a quick look at his face and was surprised by the tenderness I saw there. His voice woke me from my musings.

"Then I'll take you home. You're obviously hurt and I want to make sure you get there okay."

I began to shake my head, glancing uncomfortably at the girl by his side.

"I won't take no for an answer. Please, let me help you."

He reached out his hands and lifted my bag from my shoulder.

"Let me carry this for you."

His gaze was soft and open, and it made me want to cry harder.

"Honestly, you don't need to do this. I'm sure you have class and…"

My voice wobbled slightly and I gestured at the girl standing quietly beside us, confused by the amused look on her face.

"Don't worry on my account. I was just seeing my brother here to class. And I wouldn't try arguing with him either. Our mother would expect nothing less from her sons."

I barely heard the end of her sentence, as the word "brother" echoed in my brain. For one awful moment, I thought that I might faint. Falling, literally and metaphorically, for a guy on an empty stomach was not advisable.

"Allow me to escort you home, my lady."

He held out his arm and waggled his eyebrows jokingly. The giggle that burst from my lips caused the smile on his face to widen. His sister's farewell words came to me through a fog and she was already walking away by the time I thought to respond. I linked arms tentatively with my Mystery Boy, my fingers brushing against the exposed skin of his wrist. He inclined his head towards me and winked.

The pain in my knee was a dull twinge, but it didn't register in the midst of my happiness. I was a helium-filled balloon and only the arm of the boy walking by my side kept me anchored to earth.

"You're going to have to tell me where we're going."

A little shiver of delight escaped me at the sound of his voice, slightly husky, turning my blood molten.

"Oh! Just past the gate up ahead. On Roebuck Road."

We lapsed back into silence as we walked and I began to agonise that he would leave me at my door without speaking another word.

"I'm Edward, by the way. I guess we skipped that stage of the social niceties."

"Bella. Pleased to meet you. And, thank you, Edward. I can't help feeling bad for messing up your morning. Won't you get into trouble for missing class?"

"Nah. Attendance isn't compulsory for this one. And besides, I've done the experiment before."

I quirked my eyebrow and glanced at him doubtfully. I didn't think science students had anything but compulsory labs, and the tips of Edward's ears turning red confirmed my suspicions.

"Well, maybe it is compulsory. Kinda. But I don't mind. One missed class won't mess up my grades."

He noticed the look of consternation on my face and paused, turning to face me fully.

"Look, I saw a pretty girl in trouble and I wanted to help. One absence from class in the grand scheme of things is more than worth it. Especially considering I've been dying to speak to said pretty girl for the past few weeks!"

I blinked slowly, trying to make sense of his words. Had he called me pretty? Had he actually said that he'd been dying to talk to me? His fingers brushing against my cheek brought me back to the present.

"Don't look so surprised!" he teased.

I covered my burning cheeks with my hands and tried to gather my scrambled thoughts. He laughed softly and brought my hands down from my face to clasp them loosely in his own.

"I - I don't know what to say! I noticed you weeks ago too. I wanted to know you so badly, but -"

"But you never intended to fall for me?"

A cheeky grin spread across his face and I was mesmerised by the twinkle in his eyes and the dimple in his cheek. I shook my head again, wondering if I would ever speak a coherent sentence in front of him.

"Well, not like that anyway!"

His lips twitched in amusement, but he restrained himself with a squeeze of my fingers. He tugged me forward carefully and we resumed walking. It didn't escape me that he continued to hold my hand.

When we reached my door, he looked uncertain for the first time and I couldn't help but snort in amusement.

"Will you come in?"

"Sure!" He enthused, holding the door open while I made my way inside ahead of him.

Alice and I had a small, two-bedroom flat on the top floor of a house. Roebuck Road was full of old, stately homes, most of them divided into self-contained apartments for college students living nearby. There was no elevator, only a winding staircase that was a bitch when you were moving stuff. And when a sexy boy was following you up said staircase and you were very aware of your ass being in his face.

When I fumbled with my keys and actually dropped them, he smiled at me gently before retrieving them and unlocking the door.

"Please don't be nervous. Maybe I should be meeting you in a coffee shop or something."

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking worried. I swallowed my nerves and caught his free hand between both of mine.

"No. I'm - I'm glad you're here. I want to get to know you. I just - I've just never had a strange guy in my apartment before!"

My shaky laugh didn't exactly back up my words, but I led him to the kitchen determinedly.

"Please sit. Would you like tea or coffee? Or, something else? I think we have some juice in the fridge. If Alice hasn't drank it all and put the empty carton back. She does that sometimes. She -"

I brought my hand to mouth and cringed, but Edward just smiled.

"Tea would be great, thanks. And my brother-in-law, Emmett? He does the exact same thing with the juice carton. I don't get it! The bin could be an arm's length away and he still puts the empties back in the fridge!"

"I know, right? And does he have the same lame-ass excuse that there might be a drop left in it for the next person when the bottom settles?"

"Huh! Nothing so altruistic. His argument is that when the next person finds the carton empty, they'll remember to buy a new one!"

We both laughed, as I filled the kettle and took two mugs from the cupboard.

"Milk and sugar?"

"Please. And two teabags, if that's okay. I like my tea very strong."

"And the consistency of treacle apparently," I teased.

"Have you been talking to my family?"

He squinted his eyes at me in an exaggerated gesture, making me laugh again. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he toyed with the lid of the sugar bowl. It was as if a technicoloured cartoon character had dropped into my kitchen from above. The room felt smaller with him in it, his long, jeans-clad legs stretched out languidly across the floor, the auburn strands in his hair unearthed by the sunshine streaming in the window, and his distinctive green Converse that made me smile and touch the clip in my hair self-consciously. I was so aware of his maleness in our very feminine space and surprised by how right it felt to have him there.

I bustled around the kitchen, preparing our tea and arranging some muffins on a plate.

"Muffins! Great!"

He took a large bite and moaned. I shifted in my seat when I thought of another context for those sounds to leave his mouth.

"Oh my God. Are these home-made? Did you bake these?"

I nodded shyly and busied myself adding milk to my tea and stirring until it was just the right colour.

"Wow. These are really good! Do you - do you mind if I have a second one?"

I looked up in shock to see the last morsel of his first muffin entering his mouth. My inner Martha Stewart glowed and I giggled at the sheepish look on his face as he reached for a second one.

"Help yourself. I always make too many and our freezer is small, so it's nice to have someone to share them with besides Alice."

He nodded happily, taking a huge bite. My heart melted at the adorable way he relished my food.

"Well, consider me another willing recipient. I'm a hopeless cook. Man, do I miss my mother's dinners when I'm away from home. And her apple pie - urgh!"

He closed his eyes in bliss and clasped his hands to his heart in a goofy pose. I hadn't laughed this much in ages. My laughter switched to horror when he stirred two heaping spoonfuls of sugar into his tea and blew on it carefully before drinking it black. Without taking out the teabags.

"I was wrong when I said you drink treacle. It's clearly tar."

"Strong enough to strip paint. The only way to drink tea."

He nodded sagely before stuffing his face with muffin.

"Did you even have breakfast this morning? Because I know my muffins are tasty, but your hunger borders on murderous. In fact, you're starting to scare me!"

Edward seemed to appreciate my humour.

"Well, I usually leave enough time to grab a bowl of cereal, but I was running late to meet my sister this morning, and then there's a certain dark-haired beauty that I pass every morning like clockwork."

He winked and I was distracted again by the dimple in his cheek. When he pushed his hair back from his face impatiently, I fought the urge to swoon. I may have clicked my heels together under the table though.

"That's it. I'm making you breakfast. We should have some eggs and bacon that I can whip together."

"No, really. God, you don't have to do that. I, uh, I have to be back for class in half an hour, anyway."

I stood up from the table and began pulling ingredients from the fridge.

"You came to my rescue. You've called me pretty. Twice! If you're hungry, I'm going to feed you. The only thing that will stop me from cracking some eggs in the pan is you telling me you're vegan. Although, we might have some fruit, if you are. You're not vegan, are you? Because it's not a problem and -"

My insane rambling came to an abrupt halt when he took the egg from my hand and laid it back on the counter.

"So, you are vegan? Is there anything... Whoa! What are you doing?"

He placed his hand at my waist and gathered my right hand in his left. He just smiled at me and began to sway gently from side-to-side. I couldn't help smiling in return and whispered:

"What are you doing?"

"Dancing."

"And do you normally dance with strange girls in their kitchens?"

"Sadly, no. But you're not a strange girl. You're Bella. And if you're okay dancing here with me like this, then you're just the right amount of strange for me."

"I prefer the term 'quirky'."

He grinned.

"I bet you do. So are you happy, quirky girl?"

I sighed, placing my hand on his shoulder and drawing him closer.

"Blissfully so."

"I think I could make you happier."

He whispered in my ear, stirring tendrils of my hair and sending ribbons of sensation down my spine.

"Yeah?"

I tilted my head to the side and peered up at him. The look he gave me was so full of heat that I instinctively held him tighter.

"Yeah."

It was just a brush of his lips against mine, but he deepened the kiss when my lips parted beneath his.

~OURS~

My alarm still wakes me early three mornings out of five in the week. I yawn over my breakfast and pack my bag for a day of classes and study. I've traded my red coat for a warmer one, but I still carry my brown leather satchel. Sometimes I carry a bag of muffins, still warm from the oven. I walk down the tree-lined street, the naked branches shivering slightly in the frigid air. My new red boots crunch the frozen shards of grass beneath my feet. I push open the rusty pedestrian gate that groans and squeaks even worse in cold weather. I pause at the steps to the science building and watch my Mystery Boy in the green runners approach. Except he's not a mystery any longer. He's Edward and he's mine.

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**A/N: I had the Taylor Swift song, "Ours", running through my head for this. Don't judge - she's my guilty pleasure (of which I have many!).**


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